Anatomy of a Sentence - UC - TEEN{COMPLETE}

[Tesseract]

Title: Anatomy of a sentence
Summary: Reactions and repercussions of Alex’s death
Pair: Liz POV, and others.
Rating. TEEN.
Disclaimer: Don’t own anything.
A/N: Was supposed to be a one-parter but it acquired a life of its own. Dialogues in italics reflect flashbacks. Feedback would be wonderful.

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Part 1: Liz POV


Alex is dead. Alex is dead. Alex is dead. Alex is dead.

The refrain keeps going through my head. It is such a short sentence, three words really: 1) Alex, 2) is, 3) dead. The logical part of my mind says that these short, staccato bursts of sound have meaning. They are more than the sum of their parts. If you look at them in a subject – object configuration they are a marvel of human speech.

Noun – Alex, verb – is, adjective – dead.

The English language is fascinating. It takes three short words, places them in the right order and assigns them meaning. No, not meaning. It uses these three words to communicate information. Alex is dead. Alex is dead. Alex is … stop, it! Meaning is exactly what these three words don’t have. They don’t mean anything to me. In fact these three words alone, more than “we make our own destiny,” more than “you are the love of my life,” more than “take a step back,” more than any others have stripped my life of meaning.

The mosaic that I stitched together one piece at a time after Destiny and Future Max’s departure, has been ripped apart. Alex is dead. Those three words explode into my consciousness with all the sensitivity of a smart bomb. If I close my eyes, I can almost see the wreckage from the blast falling all around me. Yes, these three words communicate information to me and to anyone else who might be listening, to anyone else who might care – but is it the right information? No, no, I disagree. The syntax might be correct, the meaning might be appropriately assigned, information might be communicated but it means nothing.

They don’t tell me about how he died. They don’t tell me why he died. They don’t tell me what was the purpose of his death. They don’t tell me who did it – Yes, who. Now, that would be meaningful. Not, ‘Alex is dead.’ These three words that hang suspended in the air in front of me, waiting for their acknowledgment and the appropriate response don’t tell anyone how much I loved him. They don’t say how we have been together since the fifth, no Alex would say fourth, how we have been together since the fourth grade. They don’t speak of the time when he broke his arm climbing a tree to keep me company because I wouldn’t come down. They don’t speak of the time when we cut our palms open, spat in them and swore eternal friendship. We swore eternal loyalty to each other….loyalty, now that’s another word.

Loyalty got him killed. Loyalty pushed his life into the downward spiral of the alien abyss. Loyalty led him to blind trust, to jail, to the abuse of that trust and finally to death. Yes, that is how we reward those who are at the foundation of our lives, we give them death.

Oh, Alex. More than any of the others, I gave it all up for you. I wanted it all for you – because out of all of us you deserved the world and life the most.

I wanted you to live past nineteen. I wanted you to go to MIT and become a billionaire before you hit thirty. I wanted to hang out with you in hole-in-the-wall coffee bars where we could laugh and joke and talk about your music. I wanted you to be loved wholly and completely as you deserved. I wanted, oh, I wanted it all, Alex – because in the end after all the travails and the necessities of life I would have walked into your arms and told you how much I loved you. And, you would have opened your arms wide, grinned at me, and held me to you tightly. Strange isn’t it that in death we think of a life-giving force – love. A love not dictated by destiny, not a love demanded by the responsibility of being a soul-mate, not the love of being second-best. No, a love that simply was and asked for nothing in return.

I can feel the weight of the silence, punctuated by Maria’s sobs and the quiet whirr of the overhead fans. I can feel the weight of the stares. They are all waiting: Maria, Isabel, Max, Michael, Kyle and Tess. They are all waiting for me to say something and to figure it out. All I can think about is the fact that this was not supposed to happen. When HE came to me, I was to give up the ‘love of my life’ and my happiness to make sure that 6 billion people who I don’t know would live. The eight, seven now, the eight people that I knew were supposed to walk away unharmed. Tess, the Skins, Khivar and the rest was supposed to pass us by, never happen. But, how did this happen? What went wrong?

They are all waiting for me to say something, but speech seems very foreign to me now. They are waiting for me to exonerate them from culpability, release them from their responsibility. I can see Isabelle looking at my from tear filled eyes, apologizing for all the games that she played, for all the moments that could have been. I can see Michael, grim and stoic waiting for human frailty to rail against the unfairness of it all. He is grateful that it was you and not Maria. I can see Max standing there grieving for all the time that he could have known you, could have befriended you but didn’t. I can see him feeling guilty for not saving you. He is waiting for me to tell him that he couldn’t have done anything.….
………He can wait forever.

I can see Maria’s mouth open but there is no sound coming out of it. I can see tears ravaging her face and bruises appearing underneath her eyes. I can see her guilt for not being with you more, the Three Musketeers stand again. I can see Tess, blank faced and malice eyed. I can see her counting down the minutes when she can move towards Max and share in his grief. I don’t care though.

I don’t care. Alex is dead. Alex is dead. Alex is dead.

I feel someone touch my shoulder, and I turn to see Kyle’s sky blue eyes. What does Kyle feel? Does he see me? Can he see my guilt, your blood on my hands? Does he see the deluge of grief that hits me? I try to open my mouth but it won’t. My facial muscles are held immobile. There is no response for the three word sentence. I try to shake my head, but Kyle’s hands stop me from doing anything. I am trapped in his clear blue eyes and I think of you. His eyes look like yours, the same crinkled edges filled with the same concern.

Should I tell him, Alex? Should I tell him that I killed you? Will he understand that I must know what happened to you – I can not let it rest until I discover the truth. I will resurrect you. In the heavy silence of the moment, I promise myself that it will not all have been for nothing. I promise myself that I will not let you down in death as I have done in life. I promise myself that I will love you forever.

“Alex…”

Kyle’s hands slide down my face and he grasps my shoulders. He pulls me to him gently, tucking my head under his chin and says, “He knows, Liz. He knows.”

[Tesseract]

Part 2: Isabelle POV


Alex is dead. The three words reverberate through my head. I didn’t want to believe it when Valenti came to tell us. How could MY Alex be dead? It was not possible. But then we all rushed to the coroner’s office and I caught a glimpse of his mangled body before Michael or Max could push me away. Oh god, the blood and skin, everywhere. I felt sick. I could hear myself screaming at Max to help him, heal him. Please, please, please…

…… I saw his ashen face when he returned from the van. There was no Alex. He mumbled something about not being able to help Alex. What did that mean? How could he not save Alex? For God’s sake, there was a reason he could heal, I mean, how could he not heal Alex? We all had our place in the four-square: Michael was the warrior, I was the dream-walker and Max, Max was the healer. Then how the hell could he not heal Alex?

I stared at him in disbelief before running away. I ran until I couldn’t see the lights from the coroner’s office. I ran until I couldn’t hear Max calling my name. I ran until my sides ached and I couldn’t run anymore. It wasn’t far enough. Max found me.

I hated him in that one moment. All the residual anger that Vilondra could have felt came bubbling to the surface. I wanted to burn away everything in my sight. Burn it away with the vengeance of my grief and anger. I hated him for saving his precious Liz but for not saving Alex. I hated him for telling her our secret, for betraying the rules of our survival. I hated him for letting Alex die.

I forgave him for not telling our parents despite my pleadings. I forgave him for Liz, for being so controlling. I asked him to save Alex, to do this one thing for me and I would never have asked for anything else but he failed. He didn’t bring Alex back to me. Oh Alex! I remember thinking I am all out of forgiveness.

I didn’t expect him to run after me. I thought he would stay behind and comfort his precious Liz but when he sat beside me and hugged me I just couldn’t hate him. But I didn’t forgive him.

I let him hold me as I cried for everything that I could never have. I cried for all the moments that I destroyed because of my own vicious stupidity. Can you mourn a love that never achieved fruition? I will always grieve for Alex’s courage in liking and loving me. I will always regret my cowardice. Always.

Now standing in the middle of the Crashdown, I awaken from my stupor when Max stiffens next to me. As I look up, I can see the rest of the group. Michael is standing beside the counter looking pale and stern with his arm around Maria’s shoulder. I can hear her sobs. Tess, who could give the white witch competition for ice queen, is sitting blank-faced next to Maria. She looks so bored and disinterested in the proceedings. She never knew Alex. Humans to her are beneath contempt I can only imagine what she thinks of this tragedy. Does she even care? She straightens a little when she sees Max but he isn’t looking at her, instead he’s staring at Kyle who is standing beside Liz behind the counter. He is looking at the Liz with concern as his fingers tap restlessly against the counter.

Liz, Kyle’s first and best girl-friend, as he refers to her. Liz, who is Maria’s best-friend and almost like a sister. Liz, Max’s soul-mate and the all consuming love of his life. Liz, who is Michael’s silent unacknowledged ally as the group’s protector. But what does Elizabeth Parker mean to me? I know she is, no was, Alex’s best-friend. I know she was his first crush. I know he thought of her as his soul-twin. I remember looking at him strangely when he said that and asked him what he meant.

He said, “Jealous, Princess?”

And, I said, “Of course not, please!” That didn’t stop me from pressing him for an answer and I will never forget what he said.

He said, “Do you know Isabelle that there are different kinds of love? There is romantic love, familial love, platonic love, and then there is something that is love but so much more than that. Liz was my first friend in school. She pushed Billy Peters in the mud when she caught him taking my lunch. She asked me to sit with her and Maria in school and after that we did everything together. She doesn’t know it, but Liz was my first crush. I mean, all you have to do is look at her. She was funny and smart and warm and knew all my secrets. Liz has always understood me. It didn’t matter if I said anything or kept quiet. She always knew what I thought and how I felt. And, I think it worked the same with me. Why do you think I was so angry with her when we found out about the Czechoslovakians? She’d lied to me. You know Iz, that was the first time that she lied to me and it hurt. It hurt not just in my heart but deeper. But, I should have known it was something big when she finally told me. Since then we’ve told each other everything, because whether we talk or not, we always know. Do you understand what I mean, Iz? I don’t love Liz like I love you or my parents or Maria or other people. What I feel for her comes from inside and finds its mirror in her.”

I’d never heard Alex talk so seriously about anyone or anything before. And what he saw in Liz, what he said about her, had me reeling so much so that I never picked up on the fact that he said he loved me. After that I began to really look at Liz. For all her quietness and shyness, she has a core of iron that only Alex recognized. I don’t think Maria and Max even realize that it is there, they are so caught up in the gentleness that hides it. I think Michael recognizes her courage. He respects her for everything that she has sacrificed and done for us. I know that after my conversation with Alex I began see her anew. I noticed her strength and sensitivity, her desire to protect those that she loves, her devotion to her friends and the quiet way she holds our disparate personalities together. But we still weren’t friends.

As I stand here with tears in my eyes and Alex’s words echoing in my ears, “She is the best friend you can ask for Isabelle. You'll see.” And I do. I see that even in this moment of devastation we are all looking at her. We are looking to her to make sense of this evening and the fact that Alex is dead, while she stands there pale and fragile. I can see her grief and the weight of expectation rising to overwhelm her.

I see her open her mouth to say something but no words come out. She sways on her feet and before Max can move towards her, she says “Alex…” and Kyle pulls her to him as if the very act of holding her will prevent her from shattering into a million pieces.

I look at her and realize that Alex was right. If not in his life then in death, Elizabeth Parker and I will be friends.

[Tesseract]

Sternbetrachter: Thank you for the compliments. As far as paranoid is concerned, well....

Sep444: I'm glad you liked it stay tuned for more.

tiredmuse: I'm glad you liked Isabelle's POV. I really dislike her quite a bit and this is my way of resolving her bitchiness on the show. I really can't believe that any one person can be that unpleasant or self-absorbed. Well, we'll find out.

Cherie: Wow Hope you enjoy the rest of it as much.

Calinia: I am really enjoying your "Don't Dream It's Over." And my Kyle, was inspired by yours. Hopefully, he'll be just as enjoyable. Thanks.

Now, on with the Part 3.
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Part 3: Kyle POV

I hadn’t even realized that I’d moved or said anything until Liz was in my arms and I caught the last part of my sentence “... he knows.”

He knows? What does that mean? What is that tapping? I look down and see my fingers drumming a complicated rhythm on Liz’s back. She's standing against my chest with her face hidden by her hair. I never realized how small and thin she is. She barely reaches my breast bone and I can feel her delicate spine under my hands. Her hair has grown so much in the past few months. It skimmed her shoulders on that night when we pretended to sleep together – I still don’t understand why she did that – but now it reaches the middle of her back. Thick and shiny smelling faintly of vanilla and lavender it clings to her face.

It is so strange the things you notice about people when you aren’t being consumed by them, or in my case, consumed by not having them, something I learned in Learning-How-Not-To-Be-A-Stalker 101.

When I was with her I never noticed so many things about her. I just thought of her as my pretty, wicked smart girlfriend who made me feel like more than just a jock. I never noticed how she never seems as small and fragile as she really is. I never noticed how her hair acts as her armor. Different people notice different things about it but they never notice that her hair acts as her shield. I know Evans finds her ‘hair tuck’ endearing or attractive, whatever. And Isabelle, wouldn’t be caught dead, oops bad word-choice, admiring it. It’s amazing, discover the jolly fat man and people emasculate you. All of a sudden all sorts of women talk to you about hairstyles and clothing and whatever else they like to talk about. Never mind, what was I saying? Oh, right fixating on Liz’s hair. Anyway, no one ever notices how like a soldier going into battle her hair acts as her shield and a flag of her resolution. Right now, in the deathly stillness of the room, apart from Maria’s silent cries and the occasional quiver of Liz’s shoulders, her hair is in a frenzy of motion. It is tangled and clinging to her face and my hands, chest and even my face. If her hair is anything to go by, I would say that Liz is in danger of shattering.

Even as I look up to give him a death glare of my own, I can feel Evans’ eyes boring holes into my skull. I know he wants to be here holding her, comforting her. But I also know that the bastard wants her to comfort him. Tell him that it wasn’t his fault Alex died that there was nothing he could have done about it. Bastard. Her world has fallen apart, one of her best friend’s has died and all he wants is for her to pay attention to him. As my glare becomes ever more menacing and he looks away, I promise myself it won’t happen. Bloody Maxwell Evans, King of the Bug-Eyed Morons will never ever hurt her again.

All of a sudden I wish Alex was here. He would know how to comfort her. He would know just what to say to lighten the mood. And, he would have taken care of El Presidente. I remember how proud he was when he decked Michael for being an asshole to Maria. He told me on one of the few times we spent together laughing in the quad at school. His eyes sparkling with good humored maliciousness he told me how Ultimate Warrior Guerin went down for the count when he clocked him one! Who would have thought geeky Whitman would have the balls to do that.

“Damn Whitman! Why the hell did you do that? You know Alien Eyes would have zapped your ass into the ground, right”?

He looked at me, raised an eyebrow and said, “Let me tell you a secret Valenti – no one treats my ladies poorly and gets away with it, zap happy or not. Guerin was being an asshole to Maria and by virtue of that he was asking for a beating. Since we are jeopardizing your coolness in this rare moment of camaraderie let me tell how close you came to being clocked as well with your stalker impersonation.”

I just stared at him and with a sheepish expression said, “Yeah man, sucks about that. But still…”

“But still nothing, Kyle. Since things are getting better and you and Liz are actually getting to be friends let me just tell you now to save the excuses. They don't work. If you are going to be friends with Lizzie and Maria then you have to treat them with respect or I will kick your ass. Do you understand me, Kyle?"

Before I could respond to his statement, he continued on in a much more different tone. Thinking back on it, it was as close to an olive branch as you can get.

"And as a matter of principle, you should make sure that people don’t shit all over them despite their unearthly origins. I know Maria can take care of herself before things get too bad but Lizzie is too nice. She’ll turn herself inside out if she feels the situation demands it and it takes a certain kind of scumbag to let her do that.”

For a moment I looked at him in silence wondering if he was actually referring to Evans. His direct gaze and uncompromising tone told me just that and in that one moment we reached an understanding. “Count me in Whitman.”

We never spoke of it again. Looking back now I can safely say that that day Whitman recruited me as his ally in the protection of ‘his ladies.’ Oh Buddha! I just wish that he hadn’t meant it with so much seriousness or left me alone to do it. At the very least he should have left a set of instructions, I mean at the very least if violence was involved I could have made my peace with Buddha.

Well, its a little too late now. Aside from that conversation and a few other more casual ones we never really hung out. Jocks and geeks tend to have separate watering holes. So, I never got to know him that well except as Liz’s best-friend and a double-jointed computer geek who lusted after the Ice Princess but now I can feel his importance in Liz’s mute grief and fury.

As I break my death glare away from Evans to look around, it’s eerie to see how we have divided into Aliens and Humans. Evans, Isabelle and Tess are huddled together across the counter staring at Liz, while she and I stand behind it. Meanwhile, Guerin and Maria are straddling the divide. All of a sudden it occurs to me that Alex’s death has changed everything completely. Just like Liz, Alex straddled the divide with an agility that none of us possess. Our company is less one. One member of the I-know-that-aliens-exist-but-aren’t-green-and-three-feet-tall is gone. You noticed I left out slimy, yeah well takes all kinds of slime doesn’t it, even Buddha agrees. And, Whitman would have found it damn funny.

My musings are interrupted by Evans’ plaintive “Liz…” I feel Liz stiffen in my arms. Our breaths had synchronized and my chest mimicked the deep breath she took as she straightened. She looked at me, her dull brown eyes swallowing her entire face. She searched my face intently and I fought to not look away. I don’t know what she saw but after a moment she spoke and her voice carried across the divide.

“I don’t believe Alex’s death was an accident.”

The sudden intake of harsh breaths was followed by Tess and Michael’s voices echoing in the room. “What the hell do you mean by that?”

As Liz turns around to face the others, my only, well actually two, snarky thoughts were – let the melodrama begin and the shit hath just hit the fan.

[Tesseract]

Part 4: Others


The morgue is curiously silent. The air of hushed anticipation weighing down in the Crashdown is present here as well. The guard sitting in front of the double doors doesn’t even feel the two shadows glide past him. All he feels is a faint breeze and curses building maintenance for leaving the air conditioning on high. He hates this job.

The two figures move around the morgue with authority. There are no missteps or fumbles here. They know exactly who and what they are looking for. Hopefully, it’s not too late.

“For fucks sake, why didn’t the kid just leave his picture and an engraved card behind – Zan, King of Antar, also known as the Greatest Moron on Two Planets!” he hissed in fury.

“Would you please calm down,” replied his companion.

“Calm down? Calm down? Are you out of your goddamn mind? Bad enough he engages in necrophilia during the day, but then he also leaves fingerprints behind. I mean, you would think that a painful death in an earlier life would have taught him something.”

“Stop being so dramatic, it isn’t like he did it to antagonize you. I mean, he was upset. What else did you expect, not all of us can have your calm under pressure, which is a nice way of saying that you are a cold-hearted bastard!”

“Don’t…”

“Don’t what, tell the truth? What did you expect? Vilondra was screaming loud enough to wake the dead. The boy was important to her, even if she didn’t know it. He was Elizabeth and Maria’s friend, and besides, there was no reason to think that Zan wouldn’t be able to bring him back. Why don’t you just realize that we should have been here much sooner, but no you never listen. If you’d listened things wouldn’t be this bad. But no, you had to shirk your obligations didn’t you? Zan is not the only one who hasn’t changed. You always were and will remain monumentally self-absorbed. Tell me, what did you expect them to do? They don’t know any better.”

She took a deep breath and continued in her earlier collected tone, “Why do you think it didn’t work? And why did he do it alone? Why didn’t Rath help him?”

“Since when are you on a first name basis with Deluca and Parker?”

“Does it matter? We don’t have time to discuss this right now. If we wait any longer this whole discussion will be a moot point. And, did you even hear anything I said after I mentioned the girls?”

If any one had been able to hear this conversation they would have noticed a certain flavor to the argument, however the guard outside remained oblivious to the heated exchange and the hush remained unbroken. Despite the rancorous feelings and obviously different styles of working the ease with which the two pathed to one another indicated that they were partners. They had been for sometime now. And like all partners, their mental intimacy was edged by their bickering. Nonetheless, they managed to get the job done. Some might say that’s what made them so dangerous.

After a short pause the man continued, “Yes, yes. I don’t know why he went in alone, or why he wasn’t able to do anything. Fuck. Just when I think my life is back something like this comes along. Where is that body?”

“Walters, Wendell, Whitman…here it is. Oh poor kid, he doesn’t look that great.”

“Yeah, well at if you don’t help me move him at this rate he’s going to freeze to death. Can you feel anything?”

“Uh-huh. His energy is very faint, barely there. I think if we hurry, it might work.”

“Can you do it?”

“Well, I can try.”

“Try? We came all this way so that you could ‘try!’”

“Shut up! It’s not like we have a choice. We can’t lose and you know it. So stop with the false bravado and posturing. I’d like to see how brave you're feeling when Khivar is extracting your guts out through your nose better yet wait till he sics Nikkei on your ass. We have to save the boy, there is no choice. They must not go down this path, it is too dangerous. Already, I can feel the fissures. If they continue it will all be over before we even have a fighting chance.”

“Fine, whatever. Let’s do it.”

It is hard enough to move a dead body once rigor mortis has set in, but to move the body of a six foot plus teenage boy is difficult to say the least. Yet, the two did it with little to no effort. Despite his frustration, the man slowly levitated Alex Whitman’s body from its resting place and directed it to a nearby table. Once it was settled, he placed his hands on Alex’s legs one at a time and a pale yellow glow began to emanate from them. He touched every part of Alex’s body that had been scarred and brutalized in the car crash leaving behind pale smooth skin. The entire procedure took a little over an hour. By the time he was finished, Alex Whitman looked like he was sleeping on a steel table in the morgue.

Feeling her quizzical look, he said brusquely, “it's temporary, and it would have been done sooner or later. No need to work in unpleasant conditions. Get to it.”

His companion leaned over Alex’s face and placed her left index and middle fingers on his right temple and her right hand on his heart. Her gaze intent on Alex’s face, she willed his heart to beat, his mind to reawaken, his soul to grasp at the faint ember of life glowing in the blackness surrounding him. She worked in absolute silence while her companion stood aside and watched both her and his watch grimly. An hour passed, then two, by three-thirty in the morning she was pale and sweating. Her jaw clenched with the effort the energy transfer took but it was no use. Alex remained stubbornly unresponsive.

“It’s getting late. We need to head out,” her companion said after nearly three hours of silence.

“I can’t do it. It’s not working.”

“What do you mean it’s not working? You are a Naib-Hayat.”

“I know that. You aren’t telling me anything I don’t know.”

“Then?”

“I think we should take him with us. We are running out of time. If we take him back, I can reconnect with him. He’s here he just doesn’t want to be. There is so much darkness, anger, so much pain. Death didn’t come easily to him, he sensed every last minute of it, endured it in all its excruciating and agonizing pain. He’s resisting this place. We should take him back.”

“So, what are you saying? We take him since you feel something…”

“Yes. He needs comfort and warmth. This isn’t exactly the best place for either of those. I need more time. He must listen. He will. I will NOT have it any other way.”

“So what do you propose? We steal a body from the morgue? That too the body of a young teenager, who has other-worldly friends and you don’t think anyone will notice? What happens when they find that the body is missing? You don’t think that will be enough for the Parker girl to go on a rampage?”

“You aren’t listening. None of that will matter if he dies. So, let’s go!”

“Fine, let me take care of the guard. Shit, I knew I should have brought an extra with me. Let me just state for the record, this is a bad plan,” with those last words, the man stalked out.

She heard him telepathically magnifying the guard’s need to use the men’s room. She snickered, despite all the worlds and times he still retained his sense of irony and expedience. The smile died when she looked down at Alex’s face.

“I know it hurts but you will come back. You must, there is no other way.”

[Tesseract]

Pandas 2001, Cherie: If you're curious then I must be doing something right! I promise an interesting, at the very least, ride.

Calinia: If I revealed all my secrets then what fun would that be? Patience is a virtue.

tired muse, ezriboots and VooDoo: Thank you for the praise and interest. Stay tuned for more.

Sternbetrachter: I love Alex too. As for his resurrection, well....

Detzer: Maybe, Maybe Not!

Enjoy Part 5 and thank you for the feedback. It keeps my paranoia from surfacing!
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Part 5: Michael POV


Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

As soon as the Sheriff walked into the Crashdown with his hat in his hands, I knew something bad had gone down. I just never realized how bad it could be.

Shit, I knew I should have been paying attention to what was going on with him.

If we got to the morgue or the coroner’s office in time, Maxwell would be able to fix it. I remember, the seven of us racing down to the coroner’s office. I was the first one to see the body and one look at it made me want to puke my guts out. Max and I pushed Isabel, Liz and Maria away from the doors so they couldn’t see anything. Some kind of protector I’d be if I let them see that, it was bad enough that Max and I did.

I argued with Maxwell, no surprises there. He was adamant that I let him go in alone. It felt wrong though. There is something going on with him. There was something not quite right about that van and the way Alex’s body lay there. Even now, I can’t pinpoint what it was that made me so…itchy. I mean, I trust Maxwell, he’s my brother. I trust him to do the right thing, to heal successfully, at the very least, but right then it just seemed so wrong. Something was not right. I know I’d sound like a complete asshole if I said any of this to him. I mean what could I say, ‘Oh Maxwell, something feels wrong?’ What the hell does that mean? Things were already so tense between us and we were barely back on talking terms. It would seem like I doubted him. Damnit. I knew I should have gone in with him when he came back, when he came back without Alex.

Isabelle was screaming and crying as she ran away when Maxwell came back alone. I’ve never seen Izzy cry so much. I froze. They all needed someone and it was obvious Maxwell needed to go after her. He ran after her once Liz looked at him and then glanced away. It was so quiet once they left. Maria and Liz were standing there immobile. I couldn’t even imagine how they must have felt. How would I feel if something happened to Max or Isabelle? Christ.

Standing together, side by side, they both looked as different as day and night. One was blonde the other a brunette. One was frothy and vivacious the other still and contained. Their reactions were just as different. As I stood in front of Maria, she crumpled in my arms. Tears gushed down her cheeks and her voice was raw and hoarse from all that crying. I could barely make out what she said when she asked me to go home with her. I held her small body in my arms and waited for her sobs to subside. And then I realized, in all that time, since Valenti’s arrival at the Crashdown, our race to the morgue, Max’s failure to heal Alex and Izzy’s departure, Liz hadn’t said a word.

She stood next to Maria and I, still and silent staring fixedly at the steel doors. Her gaze fixed on them as though sheer force of will could blast them open and breathe life back into Alex’s body. She stood their dry-eyed and pale, her bottom lip bleeding as she sank her teeth into it. I reached out to touch her arm and she jerked away from me as though shocked. I was debating on what to do when Maria asked to go home again. She was still wearing her uniform. I looked around and saw both Valenti and Kyle staring at the ground in shock. I felt a little less uncomfortable leaving Liz there with the two of them. They’d make sure she got home ok.

I lived a lifetime during the walk to Maria’s house and then to the Crashdown. I didn’t know what to say to her to console her, to staunch the flood of tears. She’s so brave, a pixie firebrand. Skins taking over the town didn’t cause her to flinch, but Alex’s death…that had ripped her apart. What could I say to make it better?

I love you Maria, sucks that Whitman died.

I’m glad that it wasn’t you but him.

I knew something was wrong, I just didn’t know what.

I’m sorry for being an asshole.

I’m sorry I can’t bring him back.

I’m sorry I didn’t care enough to get to know him.

I’m sorry that I’m responsible. I should have protected him. I should have paid attention. Christ, I’m sorry.

Somehow I doubt any of that would have made it better. Besides, she’d know soon enough that I’d screwed up, again. She’d know I didn’t do my job and then she’d leave me. I don’t blame her. But I can be here for her in the meantime. I can offer her now, indefinitely.

When she’d changed we headed back to the Crashdown. I don’t think we even talked about it. It was assumed that everyone would meet there to talk, to do some damage control. Alex was dead and we were as usual rudderless, directionless floating up shit creek.

I know it sounds harsh. It sounds as though I’m unfeeling but that is what I do - damage control. Protecting the group is my job. It was my job to make sure that Max, Izzy, Maria, Liz, Whitman and Valenti were kept safe and protected. And, I fucked up. Alex is dead and I’m responsible. I have to make sure that there is no way this can be traced back to us, that we are all safe and accounted for. I just have a feeling...

We were the first ones at the Crashdown with Kyle coming in soon after us, except he came in alone. Liz wasn’t with him. Shit, I hope Maria doesn’t come back from the bathroom and notice that Liz isn’t here. Why the hell isn’t she with him?

“Valenti?”

“Guerin?”

“Where the hell is Parker?”

“Liz? I don’t know. Wait, what do you mean ‘where’ is she?”

“What the fuck do you think I mean? She was at the morgue with you and the Sheriff. We left and she was supposed to come back with you.”

“Shit. I didn’t know that. Dad had to go in and make sure that everything was closed up and I went with him when we came back out everyone had gone. She didn’t come back with you?”

“No!”

“Fuck!”

“I knew I shouldn’t have left her alone. I should have brought her back with us when Max ran after Izzy.”

“Oh my god, you mean we forgot her? We forgot Liz at the morgue! Where are my keys? Where is Maria? We need to find her before Maria asks.”

“I know Einstein. Either you stay here with Maria and let me go find Parker, or you go – but one of us needs to make a move. Now.”

“Right, okay! I can’t believe we forgot her.”

Just as Kyle found his keys, the front door opened and Liz walked in. I think she looks even paler than before if that’s possible. She still isn't crying. Her lower lip is bleeding and she's walking as though every step was dead weight and she carried the burden of the world on her shoulders. I have never seen Liz Parker look defeated and after tonight I hope I never do. Before I could chew her out for wandering alone in the dark, Kyle’s sharp nod cut me off. He stepped in front of her and touched her elbow gently.

“Liz,” he said so softly that if I weren’t focused on their conversation I would have missed it.

“Liz,” he repeated taking a step closer to her.

She stopped abruptly, looked up at both Kyle and me and said, “I have to change.”

With those soft words, before either one of us could make a move she disappeared up the stairs to the apartment. Shit. This was not good. Parker looked as if sheer will was keeping her on her feet and our night had just begun. Kyle and I just stared at each other in silence. In that one moment, Valenti and I understood each other – more things had changed in this one night than just Alex’s death and grief.

Before I could even figure out what to say, Maria and Liz came out from the back lounge. They hugged each other fiercely, unwilling to let go. Ordinarily, I would have said that their ties to Alex and each other were strong enough to get them through anything: even this. Except, this time, I wasn’t so sure. Liz’s composure in front of Maria’s obvious grief is frightening. And they call me Stonewall Guerin. Parker can give the best of us lessons in freezing out emotion, shutting people out and keeping it together. Normally, I'd appreciate her control but right now I want her to scream and cry. Just do something, say anything. I can feel her getting farther and farther away. I know Kyle is thinking along similar lines. He knows that I will take care of Maria, Max will take care of Isabelle, but one of us needs to take care of Liz. She needs someone. He moves closer to her and they stand side by side behind the counter, but she continye to stare unseeing into the darkness outside.

The bell rings again and Tess enters followed by Max and Isabelle. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, all accounted for. I feel the muscles in my back loosen as I pull in Maria closer into my side. God, it could have been her. Maria could have died and there was nothing that I could have done about it. Shit, I don’t need this. Not now. Snap out of it Guerin, this is not helping. But I can’t stop. My mind replaces Alex’s body with Maria’s and I feel sick. It conjures up horrific scenarios with the Jetta spinning out of control, crashing into oncoming traffic while Maria frantically struggles to bring the care under control again. I’m a warrior. I am all too adept at imaging the worst in any possible situation and a macabre death, accidental or otherwise is no different. All I can think is: Maria could have died, followed by, but she didn’t die -- Alex died. And God help me, but a part of me is secretly happy that she is safe that someone else died. I can sleep with her in my arms for one more night. I’ll never let her go.

Death is a great simplifier. While we are occupied in the business of living we forget our priorities. We forget who and what is important, instead we get caught up in all the meaningless crap that surrounds us. In this one moment, I achieve my moment of clarity.

Alex is dead.

Maria is alive.

I love Maria.

I must protect the group. All else is incidental.

It’s the silence that snaps me out of my reverie. There is something seriously wrong here. Izzy has tear tracks on her face and Max is standing stiffly beside her. I know he’s staring at Kyle because he’s standing next to Liz, because he is touching Liz. Not now Maxwell! This is not the time or the place. Even I can tell Parker won’t deal with histrionics or demands well, she is barely hanging on. I wish for once he would look at and understand the bigger picture. Does he even realize that Izzy lost Alex today? She’s always been so afraid that all the people she loves or people who love her die. And today, Whitman, who loved her, died. Does he realize that Tess is standing right next to him? Tess, who doesn’t understand our ‘human’ friends and our sentimentality. Tess who wants to be Queen more than I want to go home. Tess is glued to his side. Her eyes focused on Valenti and Parker.

Speaking of Liz, we are all staring at her. Maria, Isabelle, Maxwell, Tess, Kyle and I are all looking at her. We are a lot less obvious in taking our cues from her today but then isn’t a day like any other. Perfect Parker, Little Miss Scientist, Alex and Maria’s best-friend, Max’s soul-mate, Tess’ competition, Izzy’s partner in grief and Kyle’s friend and former girlfriend is standing so still she might be carved of stone.

What's that line, she sat like patience on a monument...

She's oblivious to our need for forgiveness and understanding. She needs to forgive us for letting Alex die because we can’t ever forgive ourselves.

I growl, “Say something, Parker!” underneath my breath just as she says, “Alex…”

I have a very bad feeling about this. My gut tells me that today we ran out of luck and Elizabeth Parker ran out of forgiveness.

[Tesseract]

Sternbetrachter: Thanks much! As far as Max, Alex and Michael's instincts are concerned, if I told you then that would just be too easy. Tell you what, you tell me what you think and I'll let you know if you're getting warm, ok?

Cherie: I'm delighted you're enjoying this. Here's the next part, sorry about the delay.

Adian, Tobasco Liz, ezriboots and beeeyaaatch: Welcome! I'm glad that you're all enjoying the story. I was a little worried that the different POVs along with the side action would make the story rambling and confusing. Thank you for the feedback.

Calinia: "Screw, patience!" Classic. I'm afraid for this story anticipation makes it all the better. Hope you like the next part.

tiremuse: Good guessing. You are on kinda sorta the right track...definitely more twists to come.

Thanks for the feedback and the interesting everyone. Enjoy the next part.

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Part 6: Tess POV


Bye, bye Alex. Christ, what a cockup!

This was not part of the plan. Don’t get me wrong, I mean it doesn’t really change anything. 6 billion minus one does not change the sorry state of this planet’s existence. I can’t comprehend how this species is allowed to procreate. There have to be some laws and rules against it. I mean just look at them, I can't even imagine how some deficient creature like Maria can be aloud to breed...yuck. Just the thought of it makes me want to hurl. It's bad enough that she exists but to spread her gene pool is just cruel. Actually encouraging some form of life on this planet that is not vegetative is just wrong. These sad humans are all so intellectually regressive and physically, just so unattractive, big and heavy and sweaty. Ugh. And if that wasn't bad enough, the human ego is just unbelievable. They live out their sad pathetic meaningless lives on a backward planet in a third class galaxy that the developed world doesn't even acknowledge let alone want and presume to have the final say on all life in the planet. It's really like the bumper sticker says: The true sign of intelligent life in the universe is that none of them have contacted earth!

I can't think about this anymore. It makes me ill. Where was I? Oh yes, Alex Whitman is dead. Such an unfortunate accident but I should have realized that their feeble brains can’t handle an extended mind-warp. Yet another indication that they are expendable all casualties of a war that they aren’t even aware of. It’s really quite sad to see them running around on their insignificant planet, living insignificant lives, thinking insignificant thoughts. As a species they really are quite retrograde. Sigh. Note to self: Upon return demand explanation from High Council why they chose a third rate planet in a miniscule galaxy to house the Granolith. It simply boggles the mind.

Tsk, poor Alex, is dead. And he died quite painfully by all accounts. It’s a pity he didn’t finish the translation before he popped off. That was very inconsiderate of him. God! How long will it take Max to figure out its over, really he’s dead, he's not coming back. I wish he’d hurry up, it is pretty damn cold. I should have worn a sweater.

Isabelle really shouldn’t cry. It makes her look very unattractive. She gets all splotchy and red, not to mention her voice is beginning to grate on my nerves. Get over it, Princess! Lover boy’s gone bye-bye! And why the hell is she wailing now, I mean please, she didn’t give two shits about him when he was alive. She made him miserable. Generally played him like a violin, and acted like a self-absorbed bitch, so what’s with the drama now? C’mon Max….what the hell is taking so long?

They really are quite a sad lot. The three royals and their miserable human companions – now that’s funny! What a joke. There’s Martyr Max, Selfish Isabelle and Violent Michael. They are all so one-dimensional and uninteresting. You can really understand something about a planet’s psyche and self-perception by looking at its rulers. And looking at these three, I can honestly say, it is a very good thing that they don’t rule anymore. Well, the fact that they won’t be alive for much longer will take care of that permanently. They are so ill-informed about the history of their planet and the people who have sacrificed generations to secure the monarchy. Living with them makes me look like a patriot. Hahahaha! Oh shit, did I just snicker out loud? Was Michael looking at me? Of course he wasn’t. He’s too absorbed in his little twinky Maria to care. These people make me sick.

Max, apart from being a rotten and weak king, he’s really quite attractive very easy on the eyes. No wonder so many Antarian women live in the hope of being a King’s surrogate. I can just see hordes of them standing in lines outside the royal enclave, hoping to be picked, hoping to get a piece of the King. I can’t really blame them, I mean he makes me salivate. Aside from the genetic inducement, I haven’t quite figured out what it is about him. Maybe it’s the eyes, golden and warm they make you think about sex and dragging him into a dark corner and ravaging him. I’m sure once he gets over his puritanical streak he’ll be quite easy to train. Slinking around in his mind is delicious enough, can you imagine what its like when you have both the mind and the body working in sync? Oooh, well that will definitely keep me occupied tonight.

Speaking of my candy, there he is. Poor Maxie bear, he looks so sad. Guess the whole resurrection thing didn’t work out for him. If he’d just asked him I would have told him it was a waste of time but no, he had to be all noble and heroic for his pathetic sister and human contingent. Oh well, yet another failure to his name. Not much of a king is he?

SHUT UP, ISABELLE!

Honestly, it’s bad enough that I have to stand here in the cold listen to Maria’s incessant sobs, and Michael’s stamping, must I be subjected to Isabelle’s histrionics as well. I wish she’d just….hang on, there she goes running away from Max. Well, today seems to be my lucky day, I should have just wished for something else instead since the powers that be seem to be in a giving kind of mood. Yes, yes, run along Max, no one cares. Can we leave now? This is getting really boring. I bet I can predict what’s going to happen next…Maria will continue to shriek and wail and generally make a nuisance of herself, Michael will discover the single sensitive bone in his body and he’ll decide now is the right time to bring out 'sensitive Michael' and try to take care of her. Yep, I was right. There they go … Damn, I’m good.

Maybe I should go over to the Sheriff and ask him if we can go now. I’m hungry. Well, I’m not going to say that of course maybe something a little more sensitive and subtle. Should I sigh, or let tears roll down my face, or should I do both? Hmmm, both might be a little too much maybe I’ll just combine a sigh and sob and hope for the best. Here goes…

Excellent! Good job, Tess! Now where the hell are Max and Isabelle? Well, I suppose I could just drive his jeep to where he and Isabelle are it’s not like they know how to hide their tracks.

Poor Lizzie left alone in the dark. I’d offer you a ride, but you know how it is. Nothing personal honey.

As we head back to the Crashdown, it occurs to me how predictable all of them are. They’ve become truly human in their reactions, the need to recoup from disasters, the desire to grieve and most of all, the inability to make difficult decisions. It is laughably easy to distract them from their original purpose and leave them open to attack. They make themselves so vulnerable to outside influence. This will be their downfall. Who needs a grand plan to take over the universe when you have three weaklings who are more than willing to act true to type. And to think Nasedo and Khivar spent so much time plotting against them, devising all sorts of plans, puhlease. This lot really isn't worth the effort. If I had my way, this would have been over much sooner.

Now that Alex is dead, all I can do is help this third rate drama wind-up. It really reads like a bad television show. Center stage: Our hero and heroine are tentatively discovering each other, all is well with the world aside from a few grumblings from the hero's posessive sister and paranoid friend. Stage left: Enter the scheming whore who will seduce our mighty hero, shatter the heroine's heart and not satisfied with that will ruthlessly rip apart the ties that bind them to each other. Cue: With nothing left to live for and all story lines exhausted, our hero will fall hook, line and sinker for the machinations of our previously selected bad guy (in this time of equality, bad girl). End: Bad people win, hero loses out, world dies out ... dim lights ... The End.

Truly the stuff of third rate dramas, funnily though it works out quite well. Take Alex's death for instance, I couldn’t have planned better myself. Isabelle is completely bereft and grief-stricken. I don’t think even she realized how attached she was to Alex, which shows an appalling lack of self-awareness given that her primary talent is exploring people’s psyches. She doesn’t realize the extent of her gifts. Any remotely sensitive Antarian child can dream-walk. It is the most basic and unrefined of all mental gifts. Poor deluded Princess. Oh well, what she doesn’t know is good for us.

Then there is Max and his stubborn refusal to accept his destiny. He gets to be King, he gets to wield power, he gets to have me…what else could he possibly want. By all appearances he seems pretty intractable in his denial of destiny, but really, he’s softening up. It was only a matter of time before he realized that we belong together and came to me. And now that he is getting there, I can’t wait for when we consummate our relationship. God, he’s a spectacular mind-fuck - I’m sure he’ll be magnificent in the physical realm as well.

He’s so sensitive, poor dear. Little Lizzie broke his heart when she fell down from the pedestal he placed her on. The fall from sainthood is always hard and in her case, disastrously irredeemable. I remember laughing at the others as they went on and on and on about Liz and Max, how they were soul-mates, how they could stare into each others eyes forever, how they could kiss and kiss and kiss. Please, give me a break. If he was so in love with her, and she with him then why didn’t they move forward? Why did he restrict himself to just kissing her? And I know for a fact that anytime she tried to go farther he put a stop to it, now why is that if he couldn’t get enough of her? I’ll tell you why, because his dream Liz Parker didn’t have feelings or desires. Pure snow-white Lizzie couldn’t possible want the pleasures of the flesh, because then she wouldn’t be better than all the other sluts walking around. Then Liz Parker would just be another Pam Troy.

See that’s Max, a creature of extremes. He doesn’t see the variations on the theme only what he wants to see. And he didn’t want her to want, therefore she didn’t. But then she shacked up with Kyle and the poor bastard fell apart. How could she? Was she just like the rest of them? He thought she was different. Just thinking about his constant rants and feelings of inadequacy and insecurity is enough to make me hurl. I know they all think that I love Max that I am blind to his faults. But I’m not. In fact out of all of them, only I understand the depth of his self-absorption, his need for control but most of all his desire to have things his way. End of the world or not, he wants what he wants and he does what he does. The fate of humankind be damned.

The hillarious part is that everyone blames Michael for being rash and volatile. They don’t understand that they are all built with certain attributes which make them ideally suited to their roles. Max at his best is commanding and at his worst is domineering, the qualities of a strong King. Isabelle too, at her best she is loyal and protective and at her worst self-absorbed and intolerant. Michael, now Michael is a different kettle of fish altogether. Not royal by birth his way to the top was a hard fought one and he did it all on his own. His strategic thinking, bravery and proactive approach made him a dangerous enemy therefore it suited the royals to keep him close as an ally. It was purely fortuititious that he and Zan actually became friends. But all of those qualities make his actions hard to predict and even harder to control. Getting into his head is well near impossible. His mind is like a fortress, he isn’t a stone wall in name alone. But because it is so much easier to manipulate and control Max and Isabelle that being rejected from Michael' head doesn't matter. He is bound to rub them the wrong way, and continual head butting between him and Max is more than enough to erode the once strong ties between them. Thinking back I can honestly say, the three of them made my life so much easier, I didn’t have to do half the things I had trained in…give one of them a push, a nudge really, and they all react true to type like plastic marionettes on strings.

Well, here we are at the Crashdown. The scene is like a frozen tableau. Let me introduce you to the final two players in this drama: Kyle Valenti and Elizabeth Parker. I like Kyle, I really do. He isn’t half bad for an inferior species. Considering his retrograde planet and the deficiencies in his upbringing he’s actually quite pleasant. Given the opportunity I don’t think I’d enjoy killing him. I wouldn’t regret it but I definitely wouldn’t enjoy it. He’s made these past night lots of fun. Although the boy takes instruction remarkably well but let’s face it, when compared to Max he just doesn’t cut it. I’m afraid Buddha Boy has outlived his usefulness.

Last but not least, I can hardly forget my co-conspirator, albeit an unwitting one – Liz Parker.

I appreciate Liz Parker, and I enjoy the irony of her existence. Contrary to popular opinion I don’t hate her, nor do I wish her dead. In fact, I am exceedingly grateful for everything that she has done. The list is really quite impressive. Let’s see: she helped discover the orbs and kindly left a calling card for us; she left Max after the Destiny message; she brought Whittaker in contact with Isabelle (who for once rose to the occasion and took care of it, not something I would have enjoyed doing); she exposed the skins and the Copper Summit; she shouldered the responsibility for the End of the World (you really, didn’t think I didn’t know about that now did you?); and my personal favorite, wait for it….she slept with Kyle! Oh, that was just a classic moment. Liz has done me proud.

One of the few stories that I have enjoyed from this primitive culture is that of Atlas, the giant who carried the world on his back. I was never interested in finding out why Atlas bore the weight of the world on his shoulders, or why no one thanked him for his heroic gesture. My only question at the end of that story was: what would happen if Atlas shrugged?

Watching Liz today, I can safely say, my question is about to be answered.

[Tesseract]

Thank you for the input and the compliments, guys!

Calinia: I'm a wildlife photographer and my new assignment was Madagascar. Haven't seen too much of it yet, but that will all change soon. The new story is CC, sorry about that!

Ezriboots: Thank you for the feedback. I promise not to leave you hanging on this story. I'll post regularly, once or twice a week, both work and time permitting. No worries on that score!

Here are Parts 7 and 8. Enjoy.

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Part 7: Maria POV


Oh God! Where is the cedar oil when you need it? I can’t think. I don’t know what to say or what to do. Where’s Liz? Liz is the calm one. That is how it works. Liz keeps me calm. You know you can only have one crazy person in a relationship. I mean, in our friendship I am the insane one, so I get to be crazy and Liz gets to be calm. It doesn’t work if neither one of us is calm, or if she’s crazy. It all makes sense you see, we just have to make sure to take turns being crazy. Right, that’s it. Oh, and when we are both being crazy well then Alex keeps us calm. It’s all about cycles and routines. Yep, cycles and routines are normal. I know normal. Does that sound crazy? Here I am, Maria Leah Deluca living in Roswell, New Mexico, alien capital of the world, love interest to a Czech warrior, and girlfriend to a Czech king. Oh God, oh God, I can’t breathe! I know it sounds crazy, but this is my normal. I just, I just need to breathe then everything will be ok. Right, take a deep breathe Maria. Now repeat after me:

I love Paris in the springtime,
I love Paris in the rain,
I love Paris all the time,
And everything is fine.

Everything is fine.
Everything is fine.

Oookay! That didn’t work. I mean why should it, right? I’ve never been to Paris. It’s really a very stupid rhyme. Why should I find a rhyme about city in a country I’ve never been to, calm me? Shouldn’t it be something closer? Shouldn’t it be something that I’ve seen or like or find comforting? I should ask Liz, she’d know. Because Liz just knows stuff like that. See, Lizzie is very smart. She is the brainy one of our group. She and Al…oh no, not gonna go there. Right, so see Lizzie is clever. She solves puzzles, she thinks stuff through. Me, I act on stuff, you know? I react to things but Lizzie thinks stuff over so we really make a really good team, you know. Yeah, a team, that is exactly what we are. A team.

Yep, a team that works in cycles and our cycles are insane, calm and funny by turns. There is the crazy stuff that I notice and, you know, we freak out about. Once the craziness gets over, which is good see that means we can concentrate on the stuff that needs to be figured out and that is what I do. Right, I freak out and Lizzie doesn’t have to do that and then she figures things out and then um, we take care of all that good stuff and then he, Alex, see I can say it, then Alex he’s funny, right? He cracks silly jokes and things, and well we make all sorts of fun of him because sometimes he just isn’t that funny, but that is also part of the routine. The Czechs don’t find it all that funny, but that is part of the routine, they don’t find it funny, we, Liz and I, we smack Alex and then just get the stuff done, you know Czech crises, saving the world and all that. It works every single time. You know why? Because that is our normal. And our normal works and I’m used to it and it works just fine. We all have our places, we fit each other. This is what I know, and I don’t care what anyone says, it doesn’t work any other way.

I can’t…I don’t know what to do now that this doesn’t work anymore. What am I supposed to do? I need my cedar oil…where is it? Where is Lizzie?

See this is all some sick sort of joke. I swear to God, I’m gonna kick the crap out of Alex when he wakes up. Jackass! This is not funny. Fine, he wants to be a funny man, we’ll see who’s funny when he can’t sit on his butt for weeks after I kick it into next week. See, Michael pulls this kind of shit. The whole disappearing man routine is Michael’s forte. Alex knows better. He knows, I can’t deal with…..he knows better. Lizzie and I’ve trained him so well, which is why he makes such a good girlfriend because he gets stuff like this. He gets the non-funniness of the disappearing man routine. He gets that we are the three musketeers. We stick together, always have and always will. I mean, it was different pre-alien-abyss but not now. We have to stay together because the Czechs they don’t get it. You think they’d pick one of us over each other at crunch time? No. They would always pick one another over us, no matter who we are, how much we do. It doesn’t matter. They’d pick the intergalactic-whore-mind-bending-she-beast over us, even Max. I think that says it all. As for Max, that boy needs to get his head screwed on straight. What was that shit he pulled after Prom? How could he kiss the Tess-Beast? How could he – BASTARD. I swear to God, I need to kick his ass. He’s acting like a complete asshole. I mean, here he spends years mooning after my Lizzie, years and years and then he gets to play the big hero and save her. Right, ok, so he saved her fine. Big fucking deal. You think I’m being ungrateful? Don’t get me wrong, I could kiss him for saving her, actually I think I did, but forget that he doesn’t get to play the King Asshole card for the rest of his life just because he saved her life. Get real. How many times has Liz saved his life? How many times has she saved all their sorry asses? If it weren’t for Liz they would have been screwed every day of the week and twice on Sunday. Bastard. How dare he hurt my Lizzie like that? Isn’t it bad enough that some fucked up version of him comes back from the future and makes Lizzie give up everything? Why couldn’t he go to his stupid sister, or brother, or even the intergalactic whore? Nope, screw over the humans why dontcha and that too the decent one of the group. If he’d come to me I would have smacked him upside the head and told him to get fucking real, how can one person save the world and that too for Tess of all people. Ugh. If he’d gone to Alex he’d have knocked him on his ass, my boy might be skinny but he’s buff. Anyway, he would have done it because we don’t do shit to hurt Lizzie. So, no, the bastard goes to Liz and makes her give up everything. Liar: Oh Liz, I love you, we are soulmates, some fucking soul-mate when all it took was some call from the long dead past for him to plaster himself to Tess. Ugh. I hate him. If he comes close to me or Liz again, I’m going to rip his head off. End of conversation. See this is why we humans just have to stick together the three of us, well maybe four, now that Kyle has joined the AA. Whatever. And now that my Lizzie has been changed, what a dumb-ass word, I swear, sometimes I want to hogtie Max and kick his head in! What kind of a stupid word is ‘changed’ for making someone alien?

Breathe, Maria. Breathe.

Yeah, so now that she’s becoming some kind of mini-alien and so is Kyle – Alex and I are the only one’s who haven’t changed and we are damn well gonna stay that way, if I have anything to do say about it. Spaceboy gets it. He gets that I need Liz and Alex. My normal doesn’t work without them and I won’t let anything happen to them, because they are my family. Liz and Alex. Alex and Liz. Spaceboy gets it. But what will I do without Alex? I can’t, I don’t…..I don’t even know how I got back here and changed my clothes. It must have been Michael. He must have brought me over from that, from the other place. Oh God! I wish I could just turn my mind off my thoughts are giving me a headache. It just keeps on spinning, round and round, round and round. Circles and cycles, routines and spinning, round and round flying around my head like a never ending reel. Alex is dead, Alex is dead, Alex is dead round and round the words spin on and on in my head, on and on and on…all my thoughts of circles and cycles and routines and normalcy they are all bullshit. Normal ended a few hours ago when the Sheriff said Alex was dead. Routine ended when Alex didn’t wake up. The cycle was broken when Lizzie stood there and didn’t say anything. She stood in that awful stillness and silence as though she were dead, or worse broken and defeated. I couldn’t reach her. I couldn’t call her name or reach out and touch her and before I could try Michael took me away.

Here we are standing in the Crashdown another piece of the normal that was broken so completely. This was our place, the three of us, Alex drinking orange soda on the rocks because he was stressing about Isabeast, I was spinning on the stool next to him, round and round and round and Lizzie was cleaning the milk-shake machine: but there is no us anymore, there is no our place – Alex is gone. And I need to be with Lizzie. I have to be strong for her, she needs me. I have to be there for her. Liz is my rock. She’s been there for me so many times, all the time really. I can’t think of a time when Liz wasn’t there for me and now I have to be there for her. Things were so horrible for her right before Alex – right before Alex. Things were just so crappy and she was carrying the weight of worlds on her shoulders and I didn’t help her. I didn’t support her for her courage. I’m a horrible best friend. She would have done it for me but I didn’t because it scared me. It scared me that one person could be so brave. She was stupid for listening to him, stupid for not talking to us – we would have found a way around it – stupid for thinking she could be a martyr, but still so brave. But not any more. I’m gonna be there for her, I don’t care what happens next. She shouldn’t have had to deal with all that crap on her own and I never told her how proud I was of her but I will now. I don’t care whose world ends or what happens next. I don’t give a dam about anything or anyone but Lizzie. She needs me and I won’t let anyone hurt her, not Spaceboy, not Isabitch, not the mind-bending-intergalactic-wanna-be-queen-whore and not Max. She has done enough to save their sorry asses and they WILL give her the space to do whatever she needs to do to grieve. I don’t give a damn about alien invasions or return of the body-snatchers – I won’t let them fuck with Liz anymore and I won’t let them make this about them.

I have to find Liz. I have to tell her that I’m going to be there for her. That this time, for once, I get to be her rock and that together we will make it through this. We are going to scream and cry, be silent and mourn, get angry and smash things to bits for the unutterable wrongness of it all but then we are going to move ahead and I will not let anyone stop us. I’ll find Lizzie, hug her close and never ever let her go because my world doesn’t work without her.


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Part 8: Others


“Now what?”

“The darkness is heavy with him. It took a lot of energy to even find the fading glimmer of light in him. He was so far gone that if it wasn’t for Zan’s energy signature I would never have been able to find him. This is much worse then I had anticipated. From what you told me it didn’t seem that the fourth was so powerful. You were so convinced that they were young and hadn’t attained maturity yet. But the power required to do this to the boy was not only mature but also fully evolved. She didn’t leave more than a trace of her signature behind.”

“The last time I check on them they were very young and far too busy pretending to be normal to care about their powers. The only significant energy they expended was during the Parker girl’s healing and the second’s killing of Pierce. I don’t know how the fourth achieved her maturity so quickly and from all accounts Zan is resistant to her charms.”

“Do you think it was Nacedo? Could he have helped her mature? Zan’s resistance to her is getting weaker that much is obvious. Do you think Nacedo or Khivaar taught her to leach powers?”

“Leaching?”

“I know it is very complicated not to mention highly dangerous but that is how Khivaar has survived all these years. If their agreement is still in place then this could potentially have been the deal sealer.”

“It is possible. You should have thought of all this before taking care of Nacedo with so much enthusiasm.”

“The situation was untenable, even you know that. How he was allowed to survive after such flagrant dereliction of duty is beyond me. I was only taking care of the mess that YOU should have taken care of but failed to do just as you failed in so many other things. He was supposed to protect them. You both were. I accept that you didn’t know of his treachery earlier on, but to leave the four in his care and to never inquire about their well-being that is inexcusable.”

“Look, I never asked for any of this. I didn’t ask to be a slave…”

“A SLAVE! It is an honor. And correct me if I am wrong but the last time that I check you were ASKED whether this was a duty, an obligation that you were willing to sacrifice your life for and YOU SAID, YES! So why don’t you save the slave bullshit for someone who doesn’t know better.”

“A choice between dying for a self-destructive planet and protecting symbols of a cause that I don’t believe in is not much of a choice, Naib-Hayat. I feel no need to defend my actions or decisions to you or to anyone else. There is no one left to take me to account, as you so quaintly put it. The members of the Antarian Court and the legions they commanded are dead and gone. The old order doesn’t exist anymore and I am not bound by that or any other oath that I might have taken. I owe them nothing. The fact that they are all still alive is more then anyone should have expected.”

“And the fact that they are royalty means no never mind to you? You would see them die and perish for crimes that they did not commit, die for lives that they have no memory of? They are just children.”

“Yes, they are children but they are also representatives of an ancient regime that would not die. That still lives in them. Children or not, they are symbols of a civilization that grew beyond itself. It became a garangutan entity that lost all conception of boundaries and the value of life and the needfulness of death. They might be children, but they are children who have no right to life, they have no right to live. The cost of their existence has been borne by everyone else who has been in contact with them but never them? Why is that? They were brought to a poor backward planet and before taking this course of action do you think anybody bothered to ask anyone on earth if they wanted to play host to a set of parasitical Antarians who believe themselves to be beyond death. Do you think anyone on earth was going to be thrilled by the fact that they are in the eye of an intergalactic war that they have no part in, a war that they know nothing about. Did they ever consent to fight this war, which is older than their planet and whose reasons are obsolete? Tell me, Naib Hayat – do you even believe half of what you believe?”

“Don’t taint my title with your bitterness.”

“Your title and what is that….Naib Hayat…what does that mean? Isn’t it just another example of Antarian self absorption? They took young girls from their mothers and fathers, from their brothers and their siblings because some pre-historic conical rock told them that they might be strong enough to bear the title. Did they ask families if their children could be stolen? YES, STOLEN from them for the betterment of the ancient regime? No. Why should they? It is the right of the royalty to take what it wills and the privilege of the rest to sacrifice themselves at an altar not of their choice. And how many of those children died, do you think? How many of them died under the weight of the expectation and the rigors of the trials placed before them? Tens of thousands of young girls were killed because they could not be the worthy of your title. And that doesn’t even include the ones who were killed by their parents because they couldn’t bear to be parted from them. How many of them were from the royal family, do you think? None, that is how many. Not a single one came from the precious royal family because their blood is too precious to be spilt needlessly. Christ, the hypocrisy of it all makes me sick. Patriotism and blind willingness to follow belief systems are the luxury of those who have either have nothing to lose or who are beyond the demand for sacrifice. For the rest of us who have everything to lose and who are lead to the slaughter it is a system of choice deprivation. You are neither free to live nor to die according to your choices and beliefs. Just like those thousands of Antarians who fought in this war against Khivaar, conscripted soldiers. Do you think anyone cared that this was a war that they didn’t believe in or want? They didn’t have a choice and neither did I.”

The staccato sentences and suppressed fury exploded in the silence like gunfire. The two occupants stared at each other shell-shocked. For all their time together and their mental intimacy there were some distances that were maintained and in this one night, all semblance of separation and civility were shredded away into nothingness. For the first time she actually saw him as more than an unwilling partner. He was no longer the last of an untrustworthy sect but a living sentient being who had found a home for himself on a distant planet, as far and as different from home as it could get. She had always viewed him with a hint of suspicion and never quite understood his constant griping against their mission and the necessity that made it impossible for him to back away. But now, a deep swell of pity rose within her – she was as guilty as the establishment he railed against. She had taken away his choice. She had shattered his normal around him with the single invocation of his title: A title that tied him to a civilization that he loathed with every fiber of his being, a title bestowed upon him by a mystical rock that knew nothing of human frailty or desires and needs. It knew only of necessity and obligation. And now, she had come into his life filled with the righteousness of her purpose and without thought pulled him into a failing quest of saving these eight, children really. But it had to be done. There were few others as well qualified and capable as he. The fate of worlds, known and unknown, that a young human girl had shouldered so bravely hung in the balance again, and if they didn’t do anything, all her sacrifices would have been in vain. Lives were at stake and that was part of his anger. He felt partly responsible for all that had gone wrong, and she didn’t need to point that out to him for all his separation he knew that much as truth. In some strange way he empathized with unwitting humans who were embroiled in this conspiracy. He knew how much they had sacrificed already, how much more would be demanded of them, and now the boy. The boy was a casualty in a war that should never have extended as far as it already had. His allegiance to the royals might be suspect but he respected the humans, especially that Parker girl and the Whitman boy, as he called them derisively. Separation by any means meant he could get the job done without emotional entanglements. It was the way of his people. Well, there were only two of them left now – him and Rath. And now like the four humans, Rath hung in the balance as well. To commit or not to commit – beyond the call of duty, responsibility or even obligation – that was the eternal question. To commit to not just the quest but to the people involved, a promise made after a superhuman struggle but once made, irrevocable.

So she continued to look at him in silence. Her eyes liquid in the darkness willing him to unburden his soul, to lay it all out before her as she had dreamed, a long time ago in a different world. Knowing he wasn’t finished and that this would change things yet again, she waited. Taking in a deep breath, he continued a little more moderately:

“It is all a matter of choice in the end. The choice to live, the choice to die, the choice to serve, the choice to protect, the choice to sacrifice and even the choice to love, these are defining moments in one’s life. Who we are and who we become is a matter of choice. Even when it seems like there is no choice, the choice is still there. We might not like it. We might not be willing to pay the price. We might think it so terrible that it amounts to no choice at all. But Ser, there is always a choice. A civilization that denies its people the freedom to choose, right to live or die as they, will has overstepped its boundaries. The fact that you exist in your current position, that you are the Naib-Hayat, the Keeper of Life, at the behest of a rock and the Antarian Royal Court means that death has no meaning. And if death has no meaning, then neither does life, neither does will and choice. Life continuing ad infinitum is meaningless and degenerates to existence,” he ended on a soft exhalation of breath.

She looked at him and spoke gently, “What of the boy then?”

*************************************************************

See you all Sunday/Monday.

[Tesseract]

Hi Guys!

You've all been brilliant with the feedback. And I'll respond later. This is just a quick flyby post.

Umm, quick warning. From here on, the story will probably get tremendously angsty. It won't be very "kind" towards Max either -- which is the nicest word I can think of. I didn't plan it this way, this chapter just wrote itself and pushed the story in a different direction. I think my issues with season 2 and the five seconds of season 3 have just started showing themselves in a really ugly way.

So, umm, consider yourselves warned.

As always, opinions, criticisms, comments, and discussion are genuinely welcomed and appreciated.

So, here is part 9 for the brave...

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Part 9:

Liz


“I don’t believe Alex’s death was an accident.”

As soon as I said the words I knew that that they had come out all wrong. I hadn’t meant that, well, not exactly. I shouldn’t have said them just then and once said I couldn’t take them back no matter how ill timed or ill spoken or how much I wanted to. But did I really, want to take them back that is? A small rebellious part of me wanted to say them, to purge myself of them and the knowledge that I was responsible for Alex’s death. He was dead because of the choices that I had made, but somehow that wasn’t what happened.

“What hell do you mean by that?” Michael and Tess exclaimed simultaneously.

It was uncanny to see the identical expressions of outrage flash across their faces. Maybe they really were related and Tess had just failed to inform us of that. Poor Michael, as annoying as he was, I wouldn’t wish that on anyone, even him. The exclamations flowed around me, without ever touching me. The voices ebbed and flowed and sounded as if coming from a great distance. Muffled and indistinct, a part of me struggled to hear what was being said, while the other part separated itself from the scene and focused on the people in the room. It seemed as though I stood outside of myself looking at myself and everyone else. I wonder if this is what happens when you have an out of body experience?

I could see Kyle standing behind me and distantly feel his arms stiffen around me. He didn’t seem particularly surprised by my announcement. Maybe that is what he meant when he said ‘he knows.’ Somehow I doubt he would comfort me with so much equanimity if he suspected me of murder. But I don’t know for sure Kyle has the capacity to surprise me. I think his encounters with Buddha are beginning to pay off.

“Liz,”

“LIZ!”

“Huh? What?”

“What exactly do you mean by that? How do you know….No, it’s not true. You don’t know what you are talking about. It was a car accident, ok. Even Valenti said so. We all heard him – it was a horrible, horrible accident,” Isabelle’s voice stridently cut across the room.

“Shh, calm down, Izzy. I’m sure Liz didn’t mean…Look, we are all stressed out and upset. It’s been a bad day so maybe we should all just calm down and go home,” Michael said as he helped Maria into a seat near the counter. She didn’t look so great. Pale and faint, it seemed as though she would fall over or worse yet, faint at any moment.

There it was that awkward angry silence again. Rife with complications and worries, buzzing with shock and grief it wasn’t the most restful one in the history of silences. But that wasn’t what caught my attention. What caught my attention was the painful fixity with which Max was staring at me and what could be the rhythmic soothing motion of Kyle’s fingers across my abdomen – only it was broken by odd moments of tapping.

Max.

What can I say about Max? What can I say that hasn’t already been said? I don’t really know.

After everything it seems so anti-climactic to say that Max Evans was the love of my life. Yes, was. He wasn’t, isn’t anymore. Not after I broke his heart and mine irrevocably with the FM fiasco. In fact, it is one of the cruel ironies of my life that the love of my life helped me destroy my own heart. He knew just what to say, what to do, to make me realize that my dream of a white wedding with gardenias and an amber-eyed groom would remain just that – a dream.

I had done everything that had been asked of me, by him, for him. And I had nothing to show for it. No love, no life, and certainly no, best friend. The casualties of loving Max Evans were growing everyday and now, right at this very minute, I think – no, I know – I know that my love is dead. I can’t ever love Max again with the wide-eyed intensity of yesterday. Too much has happened. So much water has gone under, over and around that proverbial bridge, that there isn’t even a ruin of a bridge anymore.

And now, with him staring at me with the same intense and focused look on his face, as if I were the center of his universe, I want to go over to him and slap him across his face. I want to beat my fists against his chest where his dead heart is lying encased in a Tess shaped block of ice. I want to drain his life out of him, make him do penance for every single time that he has failed me.

A drop of blood for every single tear that I have ever shed on his account.

A sliver of tongue for every single time that I have lied for him to myself, to my parents, to Alex.

A pound of flesh for every single time he killed the heart beating in my chest like a butterfly madly fluttering its wings to escape a cage, a prison.

I demand his life as forfeit in place of Alex.

Nothing else can ever come close to being close enough…

My thoughts used to scare me before, before today. Not a naturally violent person the Old Testament vengeance flooding my being, has caught me unawares at other times, is demanding its due its due at this very moment. Its dull throb is beating in my veins, my heart, my mind and my soul. I can’t stop it. It’s all I can do to struggle against the inexorable tide of emotions that is flooding my being. Like a swimmer that has been underwater for too long the temptation to give in, to sink into blessed forgetfulness is too strong…but I must fight against it.

All will be lost otherwise. I just know.

Flailing against the riptide of emotions, I say hoarsely, “It has been a long day. I’m tired. I’ll see you all tomorrow. Lock up behind you.”

Turning to Maria, who is still sitting at the counter in stunned silence, her grief a living shadow next to her, I say, “Ria.”

“Lizzie…” she says looking up at me uncomprehendingly.

I hug her. She just looks so lost right now. I speak gently to her, “Ria, I want you to go home with Michael ok. I want you to get some sleep and I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

She nods dumbly and gets up holding Michael and my outstretched hands.

“You promise, Lizzie?”

“Yes, Ria. I promise. I WILL see you tomorrow, ok?” and lean over to kiss her forehead.

Her catatonic state makes me even angrier at myself and at Max. I want my best friend back. I want Hurricane Deluca and the spitfire that Maria is back. I want her fire and warmth to thaw the chill I can feel settling around my soul. I just want my best friend back.

“Yeah, ok.”

I look over her head and meet Michael’s gaze, our eyes holding each other’s for a long minute.

If any one had ever said to me that Michael Guerin and I had anything in common, I would have laughed out loud and had them committed to an institution! Me and Michael, please! That’s like saying chalk and cheese mix. Or that gasoline puts out fire instead of fanning it brighter. Michael and my relationship can be described as adversarial at best and, I can’t think of a word that describes it at its worst. Suffice it to say that Michael and I, will never be accused of being friends.

But, in this one moment, as we stand separate from the rest of the group, separated from the obligations, duties and loyalties that pull us apart, Michael and I understand each other.

We are bound together by our love for Maria and our desire to protect her. In this one moment, Michael acknowledges that I have entrusted Maria to him and that I trust him to keep her safe and to love her. To do for her what I can’t. In this one moment, I understand that he won’t let me down. That for all our moments and times on opposing sides of the fence he has grown up in the past few hours. The brash, rebellious, inconsiderate Michael has taken a back seat. He has been replaced by a newer mature Michael who has finally, at a deeper more meaningful level, understood the sacrifices that we have made to be with them, to keep their secret. Alex was a terrible price to pay to reach that understanding but standing before me isn’t Michael Guerin the spiky haired boy with an attitude but Michael Guerin as Rath – the Protector of the group.

Maybe there is hope for us, yet.

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Others


“What of the boy then?”

A long sigh, “Well, you are the one committed to this quest why don’t you tell me?”

Careful not to smile outwardly, she continued in a conversational tone.

“We have to make contact. Just listen to me first before saying anything – please?”

It could have been the unexpected entreaty at the end of the sentence that stopped his exclamation or something else. But he kept his silence and nodded his assent for her to continue.

“He’s stable for now. There isn’t much else that I can do. But it is dangerous for him to continue this way. If, when” she hastily corrected herself, “when he emerges he could come back as something dark and unnatural. We don’t know how pervasive the fourth’s effect is on him. Now that the translation has been done and the Heir has failed, Kivaar’s plan has reached its final stages.”

Taking a small drink of water, she continued. “There is no time for him to wake up on his own, which as I said, is now doubtful. We need to make contact and get the girl’s and the Second’s attention. Rath has powers of his own, as you well know.”

A muttered, “humph” was the only sign that he was listening.

“He hasn’t tapped into them yet. Once he does the process can be reversed. Meanwhile the girl, well – if the Light has chosen her and I can cross half a dozen galaxies to come here – then she should have no trouble helping us. Besides, the end of the world aside, the boy’s return will be reason enough for her.”

“Why her?” he asked shoulders slumped in defeat. No matter what he decided fate had already planned his end for him. Maybe the time had come to pick a side, pick a fight, to make a choice.

“Because she has seen the Light, felt it, even though she doesn’t know it yet. And because, when the Heir healed her, he left something of his gift behind in her. She is twice touched. All that aside, she has shown herself capable of great sacrifice and love. Her willingness to save the boy more than qualifies her for the task.”

Standing up she walked over to where he was standing near the windows. Looking out at the stars shimmering in their cold light she said, “What do you think?

A quick sideways glance, and then he responded dryly “I haven’t said I’ll do it, yet!”

Nothing her sharp intake of breath he continued, “Start small. If she’s as clever as all that then she shouldn’t have any trouble deciphering the picture.”

“We don’t have time for your games!” she burst out, her words clipped.

Unconcerned by the flash of temper, he spoke thoughtfully, “It isn’t a question of games but of worthiness. She must want to do this, more than anything else. More than anything she has ever wanted.”

Straightening he walked over to the door leading to the hallway. He opened the door, and stepped out. But just before closing it, on her, said his voice devoid of its usual sarcasm and cynicism.

“This journey is not for the faint of heart. Yes, she is brave this earth girl that you have bound yourself to so readily. But the way is difficult and she must prove herself committed. There is no going back. If we do this right – there is no other way.”

Alone in the room, with her thoughts swirling darkly around her, she hoped that Liz Parker would accept one more burden. One more challenge. And maybe, this time like all the others before, she wouldn’t let them down.

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Liz


“You should leave as well, Kyle. It’s really late and your dad will be wondering where you are.”

Kyle and I were cleaning up the CrashDown after the rest of the group had left. I thought they would never leave and with Max having grown roots into the floor I really wasn’t in the mood for a jaunt into the alien abyss. With my uncertain temper, I was sure I’d say something that would just start the whole argument all over again. But Michael had come through with flying colors, for the second time today. Would wonders never cease!

With a hitherto undiscovered talent for shepherding stubborn people, he had the whole group except Kyle out the front door with a quick wave in my direction and a swift – ‘not now, Maxwell!’

Feeling Kyle’s blue eyes boring holes into my head, I turned only to find him locking the front doors and flipping the front lights off.

“Kyle,” I started to speak but he cut me off.

“Look Liz, you and Generalissimo might have herded everyone out of here but I’m not leaving. So deal with it. There is no way I am going to leave you alone tonight, so unless you intend to wrestle me to the ground and then physically plant your boot on my Buddhist ass and shove me out, I suggest you save it!”

I couldn’t help a small chuckle at the image of me wrestling Kyle to the floor, and Michael in Mussolini’s body! His quick answering grin made me realize that this is why I had missed Kyle so much after we had broken up. No one could make me laugh quite like he could. And looking at him now, earnestly quoting Buddha I knew that he was yet another casualty of my fixation on Max.

But, I tried anyway. “Kyle, it’s late. I need to go to sleep. Besides I am not alone, my parents are upstairs.”

Shaking his head mutinously, he replied “Don’t even, Parker! You know that is not what I meant. Now, you and I are gonna go upstairs, you will change into your pajamas and climb into bed. I will either sleep on your floor or on the lounge chair on your balcony. But there is NO WAY HELL” he said looming over me “that you are going to be alone tonight – so get moving!”

Unexpected tears tickled my throat at his kindness and his ability to just feel his way around me with long standing ease. Instead of saying any of that, I just said, “You have got to be one of my better ex-boyfriend’s Kyle.”

He grinned wider. “You got that right, Parker. Now are we going to do this the hard way or the easy way? I know what I’m hoping for.”

“And what would that be?” I asked walking towards the staircase leading to the apartment.

“The easy way, where you resist and I get to carry your lovely self!” He leered comically.

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Once I’d found Kyle a sleeping bag, and told my parents that he’d be sleeping over – I settled into bed. My thoughts were a chaotic mess. Everything had changed. Nothing had changed. On the cosmic scale of things tomorrow morning the sun would rise, I would wake up breathing, go to school and the day would continue its cycle just like the day before and the day ahead. But my world, the fabric of my existence, my normal had been ripped apart with a brutality that I just didn’t know how to get a handle on.

I wanted to scream out my frustration, rage and grief until the universe responded at the injustice of it all. Scream until I was gasping for breath. Cry until the beating of my heart bled out with my tears, until there was nothing left, no breath, no tears and no life.

[Tesseract]

Part 10: 3 days after Alex’s death

Sheriff Valenti POV:


“OK, Hanson. Thank you.” I said dismissing my deputy.

The file sat in front of me, weighing heavily on my conscience. There was just no way that what Hanson had said was true. But there it was in black and white. Incontrovertible proof: the coroner’s report, the witness’s account, teachers reports, psych profile, it was all there stating clearly that Alex Whitman had committed suicide.

He had deliberately turned his car into the oncoming vehicle dying a horrific death rather than bear the pressures of his life. His grades had been declining. He suffered from mood swings and intense headaches after his return from Sweden, all the classic symptoms of deep suicidal depression, which no one had caught on to, until now. And, now it was too late.

“Pressures!” I scoffed out loud. They had no idea. None of them did. No idea what kind of pressures he had been under. The pressure of being part of an alien group and keeping their secrets was bad enough to shatter a grown man, a teenager, with so much promise, had no business being asked to keep such secrets. No business at all.

I just couldn’t comprehend it. There was something wrong with this picture. There was something wrong somewhere and it galled me that I couldn’t identify it. How would I tell his friends that he had committed suicide? How would I tell Maria Deluca and Liz Parker that their best-friend, their brother, had committed suicide? Shit! God Damnit! I said out loud, slamming my palm onto my desk. Sometimes, sometimes, I almost wished that I didn’t know any of this.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m grateful that Max Evans saved my life that he saved my son’s life, but sometimes, just sometimes, the cost of those two actions weighs heavily on my soul. My hands are tied behind me back when it comes to being Sheriff. I think that those kids have borne burdens that adults aren’t expected to bear and have borne them well, with courage and nobility even. But they are still children. And like all children they need their parents. They need an adult support system but now more than ever, I know if I tell Max this he will refuse.

Max, now he’s changed. I always thought it was a pity that Liz Parker broke up with Kyle but then I saw her and Max together I knew that this – what they had – was something rare. It didn’t come by every lifetime. They were so well-suited to each other. So much in love that it made me believe, that maybe there was some hope for the rest of us. Seeing them together, intense and absorbed in each other, laid what fears I had to rest. Alien life or no, anyone who could love like that could never be a threat. He could never be dangerous. But now he’s changed.

He was always calm in control. But now, now he’s just wound up real tight like a spring whose coil is about to snap. He and Liz aren’t together anymore. Wonder what that’s all about? He spends all his time with Tess…who is, well she isn’t Liz. He was always a leader, the one in the group who made the decisions, but now he’s acting more and more like a King. And not a popular one at that. The cracks are starting to appear in the group, and I am afraid that very soon, there won’t be a group left.

It is very hard to be King when you don’t have any loyal subjects left.

Just then the phone rang, “Valenti here.”

“Sheriff, Ms. Parker is here to see you,” the deputy at the front desk told me.

“Yeah, send her in.” What the hell was Liz Parker doing here? I thought to myself, putting the file into a desk drawer.

As I shut the drawer the door pushed open and Liz rushed in pale and disheveled, wearing one of Alex’s sweatshirt’s.

“Good morning, Ms. Parker. What can I do for you?” I asked standing up and guiding her to a chair.

“Hi Sheriff.” She replied her voice huskier than usual.

A quick glance in my direction and then she was standing up pacing in front of my desk, her hair flying every which way.

Then without preamble, “Have you found anything about Alex’s death, yet?” A pause, “I just want to know how the investigation is going. I mean, it is pretty obvious that this wasn’t just any accident. A key member of our group just died under mysterious conditions, so there must be some investigation, right, to find out what happened?”

“Ms. Parker,” I started but she interrupted me.

“I have a feeling that this has something to do with,” a finger pointing upwards, “because he didn’t have any enemies. He was really happy, you know. He’d just come back from Sweden, we were going to look at the slides he had made. He’d met a girl there, did you know? No of course not, how would you know? Anyway, hey, do you think she knows something, you know if somebody threatened him or something?” She rattled on.

I had never seen Liz look anything but calm and composed, even when I had interrogated her with regard to her uniform or when she and Alex had been arrested. But right now, she looked as out of control as could be. And I felt seriously concerned about her emotional well being. Making a quick decision, I asked her to sit down.

“Ms. Parker, I have something to show you?” I said opening the drawer that contained Alex Whitman’s file.

“You do? I have something to…what is that?” She questioned me leaning across the desk.

“This is the official investigation file on Alex. Now, you aren’t supposed to ever see this but I’m gonna let that slide this time. I think it will answer some of your questions. I want you to read it carefully, ok?”

She nodded her head, her eyes focused on the file cover. Flipping it open she began reading it avidly. Her expression changed from interest and curiosity to disgust and disbelief.

Looking up abruptly, she threw the file on my desk, before saying, “You expect me to believe that Alex committed suicide because his grades were falling? Are you serious?”

“I understand how you feel Ms. Parker, but those are the facts.” I told her gently.

“Facts! Those are convenient excuses for a cover up.” Her eyes flashing she placed her hands on my desk, “And you know it Sheriff. Alex did not commit suicide. It is NOT possible. And no, I’m not just saying that because I’m upset or grieving or whatever. I am in complete control of my senses. I have proof that Alex didn’t commit suicide.”

Rummaging through her pockets, she pulled out a ripped picture and a computer print-out. Putting them down in front of me, she continued, her voice even, “This is a picture I found in Alex car.”

I straightened abruptly. “Ms. Parker you aren’t allowed to be there.”

“No, well it’s too late for that now. I’m glad that I went because I can see that you need proof that Alex didn’t commit suicide well here it is. This is a picture of Alex and the girl Leanna he met in Sweden. Do you see how her head has been cut off in this picture?”

Stalling my protests she steam rolled right over me, “Why would he have a picture of a girlfriend with her head ripped off in his car? Why? When just the other day he was telling me how much he liked her and how great she was. Also, this print out is from Alex’s computer. It was the only file on his laptop that was password locked. I hacked into it and it only says one thing. 31 pages full of one sentence, “Leanna is not Leanna!” Now if that doesn’t scream murder or al…czech conspiracy, you tell me?”

Aghast, I could only look at her and think of how much damage her statements could do to the Whitmans and also to the group.

“Ms. Parker, I think that you might be jumping to conclusions. No, please just listen” at her livid expression. “I understand that Alex was very important to you. But his death was a suicide there is no proof otherwise. All this evidence that you’ve come up with simply confirms that. I know you don’t agree with me, but just at least think about the Whitmans. Think about how much danger you could be putting yourself and the group in by making these accusations.” I remonstrated with her gently.

Swiftly gathering up her evidence she put it away in her pockets. Straightening, she looked me in the eye and vowed, “I promise to find out who killed him, he deserves that much. He deserves better than this mockery of justice. You do what you have to do Sheriff and I’ll do what I have to do.”

Pulling the front door open, she spoke over her shoulder, “When you call King Max to tell him about your findings and my ‘crazy behavior,’ remember to tell him my conspiracy theories. I would hate to point fingers at the ignorant. Good bye Sheriff.” And with that parting shot she left me staring after her.

**************************************************

Others Pov:

“So it has begun.”

“Yes,” she replied resignedly. If this was the way he wanted to play it then fine. At this point she would do anything to secure his support.

“Will you at least let her have some help?” She tried one last time. Repeated pleadings to his sense of fair play had failed, when he’d shot back, that he didn’t have any honor and she hadn’t played fair to gain his attention.

“She has friends. And she’s intelligent, or so you keep saying, she should manage.” He replied coolly.

“Yes she has friends. But this is dangerous. She might need other allies,” emphasizing the end of her sentence.

“Fine. One.”

Surprised and delighted by his abrupt capitulation, she stammered out her only to have him cut her off with a quick wave of his hand.

Continuing ruthlessly, “There will be no information given. If she can find an ally then it is up to the chosen to do what they wish. There will be no interference, no help, and no guidance of any kind until she has reached the appointed stage. And then…we shall see.”

“And what about the rest?” She couldn’t help prodding him a little so far so good.

“The rest will remain as they were.”

**************************************************

Sheriff Valenti POV:

“Hello Max,” I greeted him over the phone.

“Hi, Sheriff. Is everything, ok?” His tired voice came across.

“We’ve finished the investigation into Alex Whitman’s death.”

“Oh, I see. What did you find out?” He asked with a hint of the resolve I associated with him.

“According to all the evidence, I am sorry Max, but it seems Alex committed suicide.” I stated baldly, there was no way I could break that news gently.

“Are…are you sure?” He queried, losing the resolve and sounding even more tired than before.

“Yes.”

“Ok. Thank you Sheriff. I appreciate you telling me.”

“Max.” I called out before he could hang up the phone.

“Yes?”

“Ms. Parker is taking all this very hard,” I tried to broach the topic a little indirectly. I didn’t know the status of their relationship, but I figured if there was one person who could get through to her it would be him. Later, much later, I would realize how utterly wrong I had been.

“He was her best-friend. They were very close,” he responded waiting to see where I was going with this.

“She came to my office this morning. She, umm, she thinks that his death was suspicious.”

“Suspicious? What did she mean by suspicious?” He demanded.

“She says that it wasn’t suicide and that the death was under,” how do you say an alien killed him without actually saying that. “She said that his death was unnatural.” There that was the best I could and prayed that Max caught on. A smart boy, he didn’t disappoint me.

“I see. Yes, I’ll take care of it. Is that all Sheriff?” He asked his voice unreadable.

“Yes. Goodbye.”

“Bye, Sheriff.”

Hanging up the phone, I steepled my fingers together and stared out the office window. Something was very wrong. I couldn’t help but feel that I’d made things even worse by telling Max Liz’s suspicions. Damn and double damn!

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See you all next Saturday

[Tesseract]

Hi everyone! First off let me please just apologise for not updating this fic sooner. I swore to myself I would be one of those people who updated at least once a week, but *gasp - shame - horror* it has nearly been four weeks since I last updated. I am terribly sorry. There is one good thing to report that we have officially reached the halfway mark and from now one, scout's honor I will be updating once a week.

Sternbetrachter: As always thank you for your support and encouragement. I promise to do something about your Alex very shortly.

Cherie: Thanks for your feedback. It always makes me feel that I'm getting the right mood across.

dreamer_forever13: Welcome and hope you enjoy the ride.

Calinia: Yeah, I get how insane RL can be. You'll have to wait on the Kyle front. He kinda got away from me! LOL

Tiredmuse: Thank you for writing in -- sorry for making you wait.

Umm, I just want to thank you all for reading this and encouraging me. This hasn't been an easy story to write and it just makes me hopping mad! :evil: LOL. No really.

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Part 11

Maria and Michael POV - alternating:


Maria –

“Lizzie, where were you? Do you know this is the third year book meeting you’ve missed? The deadline was last Friday and we still haven’t finished the spread for Alex.” Her lack of expression or acknowledgment of what I was saying stretched my frazzled nerves to breaking point. “Liz, are you listening to me?”

She remained unresponsive, staring at the colour coded map tacked on her bedroom wall. Rifling through my hand bag, I searched for my cedar oil. Where the HELL was it? I just couldn’t deal with this right now. Since Alex’s death, Liz had been missing. Oh, I don’t mean physically, no she was still kind of there. She had been missing mentally. You could talk to her about anything and she just wouldn’t respond. She wasn’t talking to me about anything…it was as if she was absorbing everything that was happening outside her, but not reacting to it. Stuck in her internal world, fixated on Alex she hadn’t even mourned him properly.

But she wasn’t always silent that much I knew for a fact. Michael had told me about that huge fight she and Max had gotten into at school. Michael had said he had never seen Max look so violent and he had almost been ready to step in but then Liz had yanked her arm away and hissed something at Max, which tamped his anger immediately. I can’t believe that asshole. He had no excuse to grab Liz or to manhandle her. Who the fuck did he think he was?! If Michael hadn’t calmed me down I would have torn off to find him and rip him a new. Stupid shit.

But it wasn’t Maxhole that was worrying me. No, it was Lizzie. Lizzie who hadn’t told me about her fight and who was still standing there as if waiting for a sign that it was okay for her to move. Flapping my hands in front of her face, I called out loudly, “LIZ! LIZZIE!”

Blinking slowly, as if waking from a deep sleep she focused on me with a start. “Ria, when did you get here?”

Taking a deep breath, I tried to calm down. But she had me seriously freaked and I just couldn’t help the high pitched note in my voice: “Lizzie, I’ve been talking to you for the past ten minutes.” Collecting myself I spoke a little more calmly, “Chica, where were you?”

“Ria, I’ve discovered something about what might have happened to Alex,” she cried. Flinching at the mention of his name, I clenched my teeth against the involuntary shudder that wracked me. God, I wish she’d just give it up. Why couldn’t she grieve with the rest of us and put it behind her. I needed my best friend back. I couldn’t pretend the normal routine without her…but I couldn’t say any of this to her either. She needed me to support her, whether or not she asked for it. After the whole Future Max debacle and the shit that had come down on her, I couldn’t turn away.

Hoping that none of these conflicting thoughts were showing on my face, I asked, “what did you find out?”

Her expression of amazed disbelief, quickly followed by gratitude told me that I’d hit the right note, I’d asked the right question, that I was doing the right thing. Putting my bag and keys on the bedside table I sat down, prepared to listen for the long haul.

**************************************************

Michael –

Ria went to school today and attended her yearbook meeting today. Last night, I hadn’t been so sure we would see this morning. She had been crying fit to kill. Her eyes red and puffy from the unending flood of tears, her voice hoarse from the sobbing and the screaming, she looked so lost and lifeless. I have never been so shit scared in entire life.

I associate life with Maria, life and the joy for living. Her capacity to love and simply feel amazes me. More than any other person, she has taught me that it is important to hold on to what you love and what is important otherwise they disappear. To see my pixie so weak and rudderless is not an experience I want to ever repeat. It just makes me so angry. It makes me utterly and blindingly insane with fury to see her like this, to see Liz like this.

But it’s not just about the two of them. Alex’s death has had a huge impact on all of us. It’s like all of a sudden we aren’t a group anymore. Yeah, yeah, I know what you are all thinking – since when have I ever cared about the group or given a damn about the human element…but I’ve seen what they’ve done for us, how far they’ve gone to help us, how much they’ve sacrificed. Knowing us has ruined their lives but they haven’t complained. Maria has never grudged me my silence, or the stonewall that I’ve used to push her away, to hurt her because I was afraid. I was afraid of the feelings that she aroused on me, of how big she made my world. My insecurities and fears seemed so small in comparison to everything she went through and I know that now.

I know that I will fight for her, that I will fight for us. I will do whatever I have to keep her safe…to keep all three of them safe. Maria, Liz and Kyle – Whitman left them in my care and I’ll be damned if I let anything fuck that up. Isabelle can take care of herself. She’s a lot tougher than she thinks she is…besides, I think this whole thing with Whitman will have her rethinking her priorities. We, the both of us, learnt our lesson late and Liz and Maria paid the price for it. Again.



I was just getting ready to call Maria, when my cell rang and Liz’s number flashed on the screen.

Alert, I answered it immediately. “Liz, what’s wrong?”

“It’s me, and nothing is wrong, well not exactly,” Maria’s voice came through, a mixture of suppressed anxiety and excitement.

“What the hell does that mean?” I barked out. I’d been paranoid since Whitman’s death and didn’t enjoy surprises.

“Look, it’s nothing we can tell you over the phone. Can you come here?”

“Ok, can you give the phone to Liz?” I asked. I needed a little more information before I rushed out to meet them. First of all I’d like to know where they were, and secondly if I needed to head off Max and Tess or call in Kyle.

“Michael,” Liz’s hoarse voice echoed in my ear.

Suddenly uncomfortable, I didn’t quite know how to begin. What had seemed like a simple set of questions didn’t appear so simple all of a sudden. Never good at dealing with emotions, I didn’t quite know how to react to Liz’s reaction to trauma. Maria’s storm of rage and grief I could deal with but Liz, Liz was impenetrably blank.

“What is it Michael?” She asked with a hint if impatience.

Talking brusquely to hide my uncertainty, I asked, “Where are you guys? Is anyone else there?”

“We are at Alex’s house, in his room.” If she found the second part of my question strange she gave no indication of it. “Mr. Whitman’s gone to get some lunch, otherwise Ria and I are here alone.”

Switching to high alert, “Liz, listen to me. I want you and Maria to stay there and don’t tell anyone where you are, no matter who it is. Ok?” desperately hoping that this once she’d listen to me without an argument that for once her formidable mind would simply accept.

“Liz, can you do that?” I asked again breaking the strained pause.

“Yeah.” I breathed out a sigh of relief, only to hear her say, with some of her older fire, “You had better explain when you get here, Rath.”

It wasn’t until I was standing at the Whitman’s doorstep that I realised she’d called me Rath.

**************************************************


Part 12


Sean POV:


“I’m sorry Sean, Liz isn’t home. I’ll tell her you called.” Nancy Parker answered the phone when I called the Parker house.

Before she could hang up, I said, “Do you know where she is?”

“I think, she said that she and Maria were going to the Whitman’s. Bye.”

Hanging up the receiver thoughtfully, I wondered what to do next. I’d helped her break into school and copy his study abroad records. She’d been looking for the names of his host family – what was it? Paulsen, Holden, Olsen…something like that. Yeah, she’d been pretty damn convinced that if she could just find out about them, contact them then she’d know what happened to Alex.

Alex Whitman, who’d have thought that his death and disappearance would cause so much drama? I bet no one knew had counted on that. It was actually amazing, that the Sheriff’s department had kept his disappearance a secret. Oh yeah, I heard about that when I was holidaying at the police station. Seems like Whitman’s body just disappeared! The night-guard swore he didn’t see anyone go in or come out, but the next morning Whitman’s body wasn’t in the morgue. There was someone else in his drawer and the coroner can’t figure out how no one noticed, not his assistants and not the orderlies who wheeled Whitman’s body in and out. Pretty fucking weird…

You know what else is weird? Liz Parker, now she is a weird girl. I’d never have pegged her as the breaking and entering type – she seems a little too goody and prissy for that, ya know? But Parker sure surprised me. She’s a natural at it. The girl has a real future in crime, but Deputy Hanson didn’t see it that way. He sent her off with a stern warning but booked me…bastard. Oh well, I guess I wasn’t too surprised when she blew me off after that – I mean, I’m a criminal and Parker is Ms. Perfect. Still, I don’t have a grudge against her. She did what she had to do, I can understand that.

Sometimes you just have to do what you have to do. I learnt that from Parker.

I know what I have to do. Oh yeah, I have a whole list of things I have to do, and telling Parker about Whitman’s disappearance is one of them. Ok, so my motives aren’t entirely pure. I know for a fact that it will piss Evans off, and there is nothing I enjoy more than taking his mickey. Apart from the fact that he is an insufferable pompous autocratic prick (oh yeah, I know my SAT words – I might be a delinquent but I’m not stupid!) I can’t believe he shacked up with the booby blonde. Man, anyone can see she’s a bitch. Dumping a class act like Parker for someone like that either makes him stupid, or really, really stupid.

Man, I hate repeating myself.

Speaking of things that you have to do – something funky is going down in Roswell and I’d bet Evans is involved in it up to his neck. He and Whitman were kinda tight well his sister kept Whitman on a tight leash might be a little more accurate. But no Whitman means people are pissed, and when people are pissed stupid shit happens.

Normally, I wouldn’t give a rat’s ass about any of them, even Parker. But this is different. You ever had a moment of clarity so clear that it’s fucking ridiculous? No? Too bad. You should try it sometime. I had one. There are some moments that you are gearing towards your entire life if you are smart enough to realise that. And sometimes, once in a whirlwind galaxy you get to pick a side.

Guess, which side I picked?

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